Day one without the mom.
After a somewhat tumultuous and teary goodbye to the boys, she left this morning at 7:00. She was supposed to meet at the Stake Center, but when we got there, I was sure we actually ran into a teenage polygamist convention or a conference of time traveling youth from 1865 wearing Nikes. Straw hats and bonnets seemed to be the flavor of the day and you could just feel the hormonal, acne-filled anticipation of the trip in the air. I have been imagining Cathi all day long; cringing as an obnoxious primary song is sung for the 18th time on the bus or holding back tears as she tries to force a lazy 14 year old girl to walk another mile. Oh, the joys of being obligated to going on Trek.
The boys have been spoiled today. Grandma took them to lunch and then to ice cream. I have loaded their little bellies with even more chicken nuggets for dinner and cookies for desert. Let us not forget the fruit snacks and lemonade throughout the day. Boys will be boys.
One definite drawback of a missing, levelheaded wife is that she cannot slap me back into reality when I go over the top on my hypochondriac-ism-ness. This afternoon I spotted a small, white patch on the end of Calder's tongue. He won't allow me to touch it and acts like it hurts when I do. My first guess is tongue cancer, however, I have not been able to make a complete diagnosis. Will someone please tell me to "shut up and don't worry about it! He is fine!"? Man, do I miss her. She is probably sitting by a campfire right now, wishing she could throw her bonnet and her ultra-chaste dress into the flames.
3 more days! (Oh, and yes, that is Lincoln's underwear on Calder's head.)